


rewrite the stars

by steviewrites



Series: cadnis [5]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Anxiety, Apologies, F/F, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Friendship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Multi, Post-Canon, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviewrites/pseuds/steviewrites
Summary: at spring fling, janis realizes what she has to do, even if she’s scared.
Relationships: Cady Heron & Damian Hubbard & Janis Sarkisian, Cady Heron/Janis Sarkisian, Damian Hubbard & Janis Sarkisian
Series: cadnis [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480391
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	rewrite the stars

**Author's Note:**

> sort of long time no see? haha. been a few months. miss y’all. trying to get back into the swing of things. hope you enjoy. ♡
>
>> **barrett!janis + grey!damian + erika!cady**

☆

Cady’s smile is brighter than any of the lights in the gymnasium.

Janis is transfixed, watching her mingle from the shadows. This is where Janis belongs, by the refreshments near the back. Hidden from view, unnoticeable, whereas Cady is in her element on the floor. Socializing, hugging, reconciling with people who were against her until now.

Her speech was beautiful, and clearly inspired forgiveness and reflection in their fellow juniors. Janis hopes it resonated with Regina in some way. She doesn’t expect to rehash years’ worth of trauma tonight, or anytime soon for that matter, but at least she has Cady’s gracious and very public apology to soothe her bruised heart.

Things are going to change around here, and for the better. It might’ve taken a lot of mistakes on both Cady and Janis’s part, but this is a huge turning point for every teenage girl at North Shore.

Cady is a good person—even good people lose themselves along the way. What matters is that she got herself back, and Janis is proud of her despite the lingering hurt over the whole ordeal, which she knows is partially her fault, too. It wasn’t fair to Cady to make her do Janis’s bidding. She might’ve agreed to go along with it, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

Janis sighs, drumming her nails against the outside of her cup, unable to take her eyes off of Cady while she thinks.

She’s so lost in thought she doesn’t hear Damian approach, startled when he leans in to whisper cheekily, “Why are you so thirsty?”

“What?” Janis’s gaze finally tears away from Cady, though it takes effort—an unusual amount, like it’s painful.

Damian stuffs his big hands in his pockets and looks down at her like he knows something she doesn’t. She raises her eyebrows, annoyed, and punches him in the arm when he starts giggling. He shoves her playfully in retaliation.

“You’re looking at Cady like you want her all to yourself,” he accuses, and Janis’s jaw drops indignantly.

“I do not!” she argues loudly, earning a few glances. Frustrated, she sets down her cup and folds her arms unhappily. Her face is hot. She really was not trying to come off that way. Now she feels guilty.

“It’s not a criticism,” Damian says gently, reading the nervousness in her eyes. He bumps his elbow to hers, and she relaxes, knowing he didn’t mention it to be disrespectful.

“Maybe so,” Janis mutters in response to his initial statement, heart racing at the implications of her admission. “Only to talk to her, though. I still have to, uh, say I’m sorry.”

“Mm.” Damian nods. “Just to say sorry?”

She wrinkles her nose at him, but doesn’t elaborate or give in to what he is not-so-subtly trying to coax out of her. She’s hesitant to feed into it, afraid it will only lead to disappointment.

They observe Cady in silence for a few minutes, and Janis’s heart skips a beat when Cady makes eye contact and waves. They return the gesture in sync, and Janis fusses with her blazer when Cady makes her way over.

“Hey,” their small friend greets, a bit shy.

“Hi,” they echo, Damian reaching out to pat Cady’s head just to make her laugh. The sound is so pure.

“Um—” Cady adjusts her hair, shuffling her sneakered feet, gearing up to timidly ask, “Damian, can I talk to you?”

He looks surprised. “Sure, little slice. About what?”

Cady’s eyes cut to Janis, then back to him, and Janis takes the hint. She’s not the only one Cady betrayed the night of her party. And Damian wouldn’t say it, but Janis knows he wants an apology. He deserves one just as much.

“Come on,” Cady says to him, taking his large hand with her tiny one, and leads him over to the bleachers to sit. Janis forces herself not to watch, refilling her cup and minding her business.

She keeps her eyes on the crowd, but they’re aimless without someone in particular to look at. Gretchen and Karen are spinning each other around, hands too possessive to pass as platonic, and Janis wonders when that started. Or, if it hasn’t, when they’ll realize they’re more than just friends.

It takes one to know one, and Janis recognizes the look in their eyes even from far away, solely from the fact it’s the same look she’s been giving Cady all night. She obviously can’t see her own face, but spying on Gretchen and Karen makes her gut twist in realization, and she has to put her drink down before it spills due to her shaky hands.

She loves Cady, in many different ways. As a friend, as a person, and…as something Janis wasn’t anticipating. Or perhaps she was, but pushed it down in her time of anger.

It didn’t just hurt because Cady left her out. It hurt because, at the time, it meant the girl Janis loves didn’t value her enough to even think of her.

But that’s different now, and Janis believes it won’t happen again. It isn’t comforting, though, to understand why she was so deeply hurt. She attributed it to just being triggered, to semi reliving the rejection from Regina—and while that was definitely part of it, that wasn’t the whole puzzle.

Cady and Damian are wrapping it up; Cady is swiping his tears with her thumbs, emotional herself, and they hug one another tightly for a long time. It comes as a relief to Janis, that her apology was accepted and balance has been almost fully restored.

Janis tries to swallow, but her throat is dry. She has to talk to Cady next, and suddenly it’s the worst thing in the world—not because she has to confess her sins also, but now she’s not sure if she can do it. There’s no exit strategy or back-up plan if there’s feelings involved.

Somehow her revelation makes it seem so much harder.

Her friends wander back over, hands linked again, and Janis pats Damian on the arm awkwardly. “There, there,” she jokes as he dabs at his eyes with his sleeve, and he pokes her stomach.

“Stop. I feel so appreciated,” he sniffles, and Cady hugs his waist.

Then she holds out an arm for Janis, who reluctantly lets her pull her into the mix, Damian’s embrace cuddling them both. This close, Janis can smell the scent of Cady’s shampoo, and her insides melt when Cady smiles at her, though her face is partially smushed by Damian’s jacket.

She’s so cute. Literally the prettiest, most precious girl in the world.

It feels funny to officially think of her like that, especially when such little time has passed since Janis just now figured out she likes her.

But she’s spent so many years wrestling with her sexuality, closing off her heart because she didn’t think anyone would want it. Even if Cady doesn’t, her bravery tonight made Janis feel stronger, too.

“Wanna know what I really want right now?” Damian is asking dreamily.

Janis snorts. “Lemme guess. Food.”

He gasps delightedly, squeezing their shoulders. “You know me so well. Pancakes, to be precise.”

They are able to slip out of the gym without anyone noticing, together in their friendship bubble with arms around each other’s waists, the girls on either side of Damian. Janis virtually stops breathing when Cady moves her hand up to hold Janis’s wrist against his back, like she’s just making sure she’s there.

Janis feels oddly emotional, but hides it well so Damian won’t see and ask if she’s okay. She’s fine—more than fine. That small touch is enough for her, a reminder that everything is going to be alright.

Damian has them wait out front while he gets his car. It takes less than a second for Cady to wrap Janis in an individual hug, molding her body to Janis’s like they’re puzzle pieces.

Janis rests her chin on Cady’s head, squishing her softly.

“I missed you,” Cady murmurs, her sadness and regret painfully distinct. “Missed my art freak.”

Janis nuzzles the top of her head. “I missed you, too.”

“You’re the best friend a mean girl could have,” Cady adds, half kidding, and Janis laughs out loud, hugging her tighter.

Damian’s car drives up, and Cady calls shotgun, breaking away to claim it before Janis can wrestle her. Shaking her head affectionately, Janis gladly settles for the backseat.

Damian puts on the Mamma Mia! soundtrack and rolls the windows down, the spring wind breezing through the car as he drives. Cady shimmies next to him, and once again Janis watches without meaning to, drawn to her.

They get a booth at the pancake house and Janis now sits beside Cady—only because that’s easier than accidentally meeting her eyes across the table. Cady shrugs off her heavy new letterman, and Janis finds constellations in the freckles dotting her arm.

Their breakfast-for-dinner is delicious, and Damian essentially inhales all three blueberry pancakes on his plate. Janis makes Cady look out the window to steal a bite of her chocolate stack, earning her a bop on the head.

There’s laughter and normalcy in their time spent together, and Janis will never take a second of it for granted. She knows Cady won’t, either, and that’s probably the best part.

Back in the car, Janis sits in the middle so she can be annoying and drape her long legs across the center console. Cady’s hand grabs her ankle like it’s an armrest, and Janis chuckles to herself.

Damian drives around with no set destination, just letting the music play and the sweet air fill his car. It’s peaceful and makes Janis feel like they’re in the end scene of a movie. Nowhere to go, but they’re together.

Ultimately Damian takes them back to school, since Janis’s truck is there. He parks and cuts the engine, and the trio listen to the insects and the distant thud of music coming from the brightly lit building. None have the desire to go rejoin the party, and that’s why Janis knows these two are her people.

Cady yawns after a bit, resembling a tired puppy. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but can someone take me home?”

Janis boos teasingly in the backseat, then retracts her long legs to lean forward. “Gosh, you must be so tired after using your big brain for math again,” she comments, and Cady rolls her eyes. “Good job, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Cady replies flatly, but sneaks a look in her peripheral to show she’s not offended.

“I think I’m gonna stay,” Damian announces after a pause, and Janis could smack him upside the head, for she immediately knows what he’s doing.

Cady turns to look pleadingly at Janis, eyes apologetic. Janis huffs at him, grumbling a dramatic “fine” as she gets out of the car.

“You’re weird,” she says to Damian, leaning down to address him. “You’ve got no other friends to go back to.”

He scoffs. “My choir group is there, thank you very much.”

“Anybody else?” Cady inquires presumptuously from the opposite side of the car, making a face at Janis, who instantly feels protective of him.

“Mayhaps,” Damian says, looking ahead, and Janis doesn’t believe him.

“Well, okay, knock yourself out,” she concedes, swooping in to leave a big lipstick stain on his cheek. “Mwah!”

Cady giggles, the romance of it all uproariously funny.

They fall into step as they walk to Janis’s rusty old truck, parked in the far corner of the lot, resembling Janis earlier as she hung in the gym’s darkness.

Her heart is racing again, and she kind of hates it.

She drives carefully, headlights illuminating the road as they travel the short distance to Cady’s neighborhood. It’s quiet, but not in a weird way, which is what Janis was afraid of.

She slows to a stop in front of Cady’s house, and the stillness Janis was dreading now settles over the pair. She discreetly takes a deep breath, suddenly wanting to eject her pancakes onto the curb.

She has to do it. There’s no way around it, and now is the perfect time. It is necessary, and whether Cady realizes it or not, an apology from Janis is very much required.

“Caddy, I’m sorry,” Janis manages to say on an exhale, shocked at how it makes her feel better—like a virus leaving her body, it’s an apology that needed to be released. “I’m sorry for taking advantage of you like that.”

Cady is pensive for a moment, then places her hand on top of Janis’s. “It was my fault for choosing to do it, over and over. I still decided to keep going with our plan.”

“My plan,” Janis corrects, strained. “Maybe you did keep going, but it was because of me. And I’m…really sorry for doing that to you. I was being selfish. I wish I could go back and change it, but…”

She trails off, head spinning, and is glad Cady doesn’t protest again. It’s the truth—they both had a hand in all this. Janis offered bad choices, and while Cady had every opportunity to say no, Janis still used her eagerness against her, and it makes Janis feel sick.

“So, yeah, I’m sorry,” she whispers, battling the tears blurring her vision, because she doesn’t want to make this about her. “For the things I did, too.”

“Thanks,” Cady says faintly, but sincerely. “Thank you. You’ve still been a good friend to me. I…I have a lot of fun with you, when we’re not sabotaging people,” that makes Janis laugh, rare to do when she’s upset, “and I hope we can keep doing that. Y’know, start over. Be real friends. Because even in spite of everything, I don’t wanna do high school without you.”

Janis smiles down at her lap. “Me neither, Caddy. So, we’re good?”

Cady beams and nods, curls bouncing. “We’re good,” she reassures, hand squeezing Janis’s. “Promise.”

There’s a lull between them after that, only interrupted by the front porch light flickering, signaling it’s time for Cady to come inside. She looks reluctant to leave, but doesn’t want to anger her parents again.

“See you tomorrow?” she asks, popping open the passenger door.

“Yeah, definitely,” Janis agrees, mirroring her hopeful expression.

Halfway out the door, Cady bids farewell with a hushed “love you,” and it sounds like a secret, or a prayer.

“Love you, too,” Janis echoes, and Cady’s eyes grow soft. A little smile on her face, she gingerly shuts the door and heads for the front walkway.

Janis is then overwhelmed by a tsunami of temptation, a gushing burst of urgency in her chest. There’s one other thing she has to do, and might never be bold enough to take the chance again, and every vein and muscle and tendon in her body is telling her to go. Just go, just do it.

She throws open the door and runs after Cady, calling her name before she can reach her porch steps. Cady turns curiously, eyes getting even wider as Janis clumsily catches up to her. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion—the breathless standstill right before Janis’s trembling hands come up to cradle Cady’s face, the stars in Cady’s eyes as she peers up at Janis in confusion—until Janis brings their mouths together, lips connecting in a long, deliberate kiss.

In reality it’s maybe a few seconds, but Janis is dizzy when it’s over, and Cady leans into her a bit, like she can’t feel her legs.

Cady’s hands grab the lapel of Janis’s blazer to pull her in, Janis making a muffled, satisfied noise when their mouths touch again. Her hand moves to the back of Cady’s head, their bodies pressing together like it’s possible to close the distance even more.

They stand there kissing for what feels like centuries, Janis’s head void of all thought except for the chant of Cady’s name.

When they stop, their foreheads touch, and Cady tightens her grip. Janis’s hands circle her wrists gently, affirming her presence. It’s all so cheesy and silly and predictable, but neither of them care. It’s perfect, too. It’s eternal.

They don’t speak, but don’t feel the need to. The silence says more, and it says a lot. Janis honestly didn’t expect that reaction, or anything at all, really. So she’s pleasantly—more like ecstatically, over the moon, jump for joy, every feasible way you could describe happy—surprised.

Even in the dimness, Janis can see the stain of her mouth on Cady’s lips, but resists the urge to kiss them one more time, wanting to draw this out, make it last, make Cady want it.

Cady weakly but willingly lets Janis go, dumbfounded where she stands at her porch steps. Janis drifts back to her truck, where the door was left open, in a delirium she doesn’t want to wake up from.

She waits for Cady to reach her front door, and they smile at each other from afar. Cady blows a kiss, and Janis pretends to catch it and press it to her cheek. Cady’s smile grows, then she quietly disappears inside.

One door closes, and another one opens. Everything has changed, the fabric of their relationship unraveling to create something new, something even better. Sometimes risking it pays off.

Janis drives home with the radio on low, then just sits in her driveway for a while, gazing out the windshield, committing this entire night to memory.

When she grabs her phone to let Cady know she made it home safe, she sees a Life360 notification from Damian that says he arrived at home fifteen minutes ago, not long after the girls themselves left.

“You bastard,” Janis mutters fondly.

She has a lot of be thankful for, and Damian is always at the top of her list for one reason or another. He’s pushed and encouraged her when she didn’t realize she needed it.

Won’t he be so very proud of himself.

Janis is proud, too, and it feels good. It feels really damn good.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are fetch ♡
>
>> **find me:**   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/wantingmylove)   
>  [tumblr](https://cadyjanis.tumblr.com)


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